


figure 8

by pouty



Series: entropy [1]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, idk how to tag this, it's just?? a lot of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:47:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouty/pseuds/pouty
Summary: sana wonders why nayeon feels so familiar.





	figure 8

Sana was never the studious type. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, she just could never sit still and take in the information. But still, she endures painstaking hours at the library for her best friend and roommate Jihyo, who seems to never get enough of books. She’s some sort of sadist, always basking in the headaches she gets from “benching 140 with her brain muscles,” as she would say. Sana never questions her, though. Only supports her from the sidelines.

 

But more often than not Jihyo got so enamored in her studies she would forget Sana was there. Which was fine, because she was usually blanking at the barrage of knowledge anyway, but she needed _something_ to do.

 

One day she found some solace in the games on her phone, but according to the librarian that was a _nuisance_ so she ended up having to give that up, too.

 

Her second best bet was just perusing through the aisles. In search of nothing but Jihyo’s “okay, I’m done!” so she could leave. But in doing so, she finds that maybe books aren’t too bad after all.

 

That realization sets in when she finds a small book on clouds. It catches her eye for no reason other than the saying always thrown at her: “you have your head in the clouds.” That was something she’d been told her entire life. And it was a saying that always stuck with her. Not because of its negative connotation, but because as a kid she always wrote down that she wanted to become a cloud when she grows up. Now that she’s older she realizes her dream was a bit too overachieving, so now, in her adult life, she’s content on setting to learn about them instead.

 

There’s a couple of books on clouds on the shelf. She skims through all of them, looking for one with the least amount of four or more syllable words. Language was one of her strongest suits, but she didn’t exactly have all the time in the world to dedicate to one book.

 

After skimming through the lower shelves she almost gives up the thought, feels her body ready to turn on her heel and walk back to Jihyo, but then she hears the cascading sound of a dozen books and nearly jumps out of her skin instead.

 

Luckily she holds in her scream. Barely, but still well enough to look to where the sound came from and find the source without scaring it away.

 

There’s a girl at the end of the row. She’s red in the face and scrambling to pick up the books. And Sana feels so bad, because she’s rushing so much that she’s making it worse for herself, dropping more books than she began with. And before she knows it, she's kneeling over the pile of books too.

 

“Need help?” she says, reaching for the stack in the girl’s hands. She has a pretty pair of hands, she must say. Sana feels like she's never seen any like them but also certainly  _has_... but it's a minor detail. So she pushes it aside.

 

“No,” she says, voice small and barely audible. Her hands drift out of reach as if on instinct, setting the books down without even a single second of eye contact.

 

“You sure? There’s like three stacks of books here,” Sana starts putting them on top of each other one by one, reaching for the same one as the girl before she retracts her hand away again. Sana was starting to think she had some contagious disease no one told her about.

 

The brunette mumbles something inaudible and goes for a different book, eyes steady and focused on the same patch of ground and the books on it.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. Nothing…” she answers nervously. “Sorry for disrupting you. Just ignore me.”

 

She’s frantic now, stacking to stack the books in a hurry. There’s only five or so left.

 

“Ah, you didn’t. I’m not really here for me. I don’t even have a library card,” she laughs.

 

“Oh,” is all she says. One book left.

 

Sana reaches for it, just because she knows the girl will, too, and that she can’t ignore her if she’s got the last book she needs.

 

Their fingers brush past each other, and Sana notices all too well how the girl flinches slightly, and how a deja vu feeling starts an ember in all her senses. She ignores it. For now.

 

The girl looks up at her for the first time since Sana walked over here. Her eyes are big and glossy and brown. At least she thinks so. She looks back down too fast.

 

“You can't carry all these books by yourself. Let me help you.” She shakes her head, but Sana said it more as a statement and not a question. She places the last book on the smallest stack and hoists it up in her hands, waiting for the girl to do the same.

 

“I- really, you uh… you shouldn’t,” she mutters as she takes one of the remaining three piles. But Sana ignores that, too. Clearly the girl was just shy.

 

“Where do these go?” she asks, and instead of saying a word she just starts walking. Sana follows quickly by her side, a million questions roaring through her head. There's a nagging thought at the back of her brain telling her that she knows this girl, but her name isn’t coming to mind. And the singeing feeling is getting worse with every passing minute.

 

They go a couple shelves over. Right where there’s a couple empty rows in the bookcases.

 

“Can you put those down and get the other ones?” she asks, immediately beginning the shelving process. Sana would rather nip this familiar feeling in the bud, though.

 

“Yeah, but first, what’s your name?”

 

“Why’s that important? Can you just get me those books?” she sounds a little annoyed now, but that doesn’t discourage Sana.

 

“I said I will. Just tell me your name.”

 

She sighs. No answer.

 

“Come _on_. Just your first name.”

 

Nothing.

 

“I’ll just get them myself then,” she whispers to herself, turning to Sana to walk past her. But she’s one step ahead of her, stepping into her path. Her lips are pursed when she looks up, eyes properly meeting Sana’s. The heat rises again, as if Nayeon’s eyes ignited something inside her, and it hurts in a way brings back out of reach memories, but Sana is determined.

 

Nayeon steps to the right but Sana follows her. Then she tries the left again, then the _far_ left, but none of it works. A part of her wonders why the girl doesn’t just take the route readily available behind her, but her inability to figure that out assures her she’s one step closer to understanding why she thinks she knows this girl. So she stays quiet.

 

“Have we met before?” Sana raises an eyebrow, still focused on Nayeon’s movements.

 

This seems to snap her attention onto her. She stares at Sana, as if waiting for something to happen. Then after a few moments she furrows her brows, looking her up and down cautiously.

 

“No,” she answers gruffly.

 

“I’m not convinced.”

 

“That sounds like a _you_ problem.”

 

Sana clenches her jaw. In a quick glance at the girl’s neck she sees her student ID hanging there, blank side up.

 

“Fine,” she says, waiting until she elbows past her to strike. When she pushes past her, Sana snaps the ID off her neck.

 

“So _that’s_ your name,” she smirks.

 

“What are you doing?!?” she growls, clawing at her for her ID.

 

“Nothing, _Nayeon_ ,” she throws it to her. The name definitely rang some bells, but she couldn’t say why (because she didn’t know).

 

“Whatever,” she scoffs.

 

“You’re not going to ask me my name?” Sana wasn’t wearing her ID. She always lost it. Plus it was only required if you were working in a part of the school anyway.

 

“No,” she turns to walk back to the books, and Sana follows closely behind.

 

“Why not?”

 

She doesn’t answer until they’re both carrying a stack again. “Because I don’t care.”

 

Sana smiles. “I know that’s not the truth.”

 

Nayeon’s head shoots back to look at her, and her gaze turns angry when she sees the smug grin on her face.

 

“You wouldn’t get angry if you didn’t care, Nayeon.”

 

“Don’t act like you know me,” she says as if she were scolding a child.

 

“Part of me thinks I already do,” she says without a thought, setting down the books with the others.

 

Now Nayeon just looks upset. On the verge of tears, even.

 

“Just leave,” she says defeatedly. “Before it’s too late.”

 

It’s a bit too ominous for a goodbye, and pretty out of place since it’s only afternoon (if that's what she even meant by _too late_ ), and it sets Sana back a bit.

 

“Alright, fine. I’ll see you around?”

 

Nayeon nods halfheartedly, shelving the books with the same effort.

 

“Then let me introduce myself. I’m Sana,” she smiles, and Nayeon smiles back, but only pitifully.

 

“Thanks for helping me,” her voice is small and dismissive, but sets ablaze the feeling in her core again. She was beginning to think the leftovers she ate earlier were older than she thought and were coming back to haunt her.

 

“No problem.”

  
  


And it begins. The cycle Nayeon dreads every time she meets her.

  
  


___________

  
  


On her next shift at the library, she forgets how to breathe quite right.

 

She’s visibly nervous, pacing the aisles and biting at her nails (a habit she breaks and relapses to often). She doesn’t know if she wants to see Sana again or not, because she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to control herself or not, or if Sana will be able too either, and so many other hypotheticals. It sucks. It sucks _so so so so_ much having to feel this way over and over again. But maybe she can keep her around for longer this time. They were able to look each other in the eyes, so that was a good sign. Maybe, maybe, _maybe_.

 

“Nayeon?” she hears someone call behind her.

 

Speak of the devil.

 

“Sana,” she lets out a sigh of relief, walking up to her. She wants to bury her face in her chest, stay there for a lifetime or two, but she knows better, knows each time has different boundaries.

 

“Someone’s happy to see me,” she giggles, then takes a _good_ look at Nayeon, and quickly becomes concerned. “Are you okay?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she snaps. It comes off so rude, and she knows she’s swinging back and forth from wanting to push Sana away and keep her close. She massages her temples and sighs. “Sorry, just-... tired,” she lies. She didn’t sleep most nights, especially not when Sana was around, which was a sleeplessness she was used to.

 

“Oh. I didn’t get much sleep last night either,” she scratches the back of her hand. Nayeon knew that habit of hers all too well, how sometimes she’d break skin when she got too nervous, and everything is kind of a blur when she abruptly reaches out to grab her arm and pull it away.

 

Nayeon waits for it. Waits for the inevitable end to this cycle. Waits for the burst of flames and ashes. But it doesn’t happen.

 

“How’d you know?” she looks down to the hand on her arm, then back to Nayeon.

 

“Knew what?” she asks, grip loosening as she lets her arm go.

 

“My scratching habit. How did you know?”

 

“I didn’t,” she lies. “It just looked-” she searches her brain for something believable. “It sounded like you were scratching pretty hard. I don’t know. Sorry.”

 

“Right,” Sana looks to Nayeon’s hands again, and they’re folded over each other, chewed up nails in full view. It makes Nayeon wonder how much she remembers, if knowing _her_ habit dug up memories of Nayeon’s habits, but she would never dare ask that. She knows how that would end. Instead, she holds her hands behind her back.

 

“What are you here for?”

 

Sana looks up at her. “To see you.”

 

Nayeon swallows.

 

“It’s crazy, I know. I sound crazy. But I usually only come here when my friend needs to study, and I couldn’t wait that long. I can’t stop thinking about you. It was why I couldn’t sleep,” not one word comes out wrong or stuttered or shy. She looks at her confidently, patiently, silently awaiting her response.

 

Nayeon wishes she could burst into flames.

 

“You should.”

 

“Should... what?” she seems thrown off by the answer.

 

“Should stop thinking about me.”

 

Sana frowns.

 

“Do you hate me or something?”

 

Nayeon feels her heart shatter. She wants so badly to take Sana in her arms, to tell her how much she loves her. But she can’t. Not if she wants to see Sana again tomorrow. And especially not if she wants to see her the next day, or the day after that.

 

“No, no. I don’t. _Please_. I-”

 

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone, I promise. Just be honest,” she flashes her a heartbroken smile, honesty clear in her demeanor.

 

Nayeon chews on her bottom lip. A part of her can’t help but follow the torture she knows is coming. The other part wants so badly to let Sana live her life free of the misery and uncertainty Nayeon knows she’ll bring to her.

 

She was never that selfless, though. She’s sure a part of Sana knows that, with those cosmic eyes piercing into her knowingly, waiting for the answer she knows she’s getting.

 

“Come with me. We have a cart of new books to put away,” is the only way she can interpret the answer she came to terms with in her mind. And Sana understands, smiling as she finds her place by Nayeon’s side.

 

Almost like a piece finding its place in a puzzle.

  


___________

  


 

It's been awhile since they've seen each other. Sana fell sick with something and Nayeon seemed to avoid her, so there's that. But like a magnet drawn to metal, she finds herself at the library all over again. In search of no one but Nayeon. (She's mysterious and clearly quite sad and Sana was never the person to _not_  get an answer or  _not_ try and cheer someone up. So she finds her).

 

Sana slides a book onto the counter, grin on her lips much too difficult to pin down. “I’m here to check out a book.”

 

Nayeon’s head pops out from the backroom almost immediately. There’s a small “oh” from her before she makes her way to her, almost tripping on a box along the way. Sana would have been worried but she was too busy repressing the smile she felt surfacing from Nayeon flushing full on pink from her embarrassment.

 

“Do you feel any better?” she asks, hands running along the wood of the counter nervously. She looked like a wreck, Sana thinks, with her hair disheveled and her eye bags noticeably darker than she remembers. _Man_ did Sana want to hug her. She was never the type to hold back affection, especially when it looked like someone needed it, but something and everything was advising her not to with Nayeon.

 

“I’m fine.” It’s a lie. Of course it is. Sana doubled over in pain the last time she was with Nayeon (she vaguely remembers her crying over her, too, but that could’ve just been her own cries). The doctors couldn’t find anything and the feeling got worse the more she missed Nayeon, the more she thought about her, _the closer she got to her._ It hurts. Everything does. Her heart, her stomach, her eyes. And her arms ache, too, because she wants to touch her so bad and feel her soft skin beneath her fingertips. But she can’t. She doesn’t know why, but she _can’t._ And that hurts the most.

 

It’s been a week since she saw her, and the pain started going away a little bit, but her body ached to find Nayeon again. The only way she could explain it was like a magnet. Sana was so attracted to Nayeon for reasons unknown to her, that it just _felt right_ to see her. Even if she knew the pain would come back.

 

“Okay. I’m glad,” she doesn’t sound convinced, but she doesn’t press on the matter. Which Sana is grateful for.

 

“Clouds?” she smiles as she scans the book.

 

“Yeah, I've always loved the clouds.”

 

Nayeon is kind of like the clouds. Visible butout of reach.

 

“It’s suits you,” she says, sliding a ‘due by’ card into the little pocket at the back of it.

 

“I get that a lot,” Sana nods. Then an idea hits her. “Do you know much about clouds?”

 

“I know they’re in the sky,” she shrugs.

 

“What about books on the sky?”

 

“I know all about those,” she leans on the counter, chin on her hand. “You can only take one book out at a time, though,” her finger circles around on the wood, light scratching sounds somehow comforting.

 

“You can't make an exception for me?” Sana pouts, mirroring her pose.

 

“I would, but I’ve missed you,” she says, eyes glossing over. “I need an excuse to see you tomorrow.”

 

“Why don’t we… I don’t know… hang out like normal people then?” she suggests.

 

“Because we’re _not_ normal,” Nayeon shakes her head.

 

“How so?”

 

“You’ll find out eventually,” she gets off the counter and stands upright. “Though I wish you wouldn’t… for your sake.”

 

“What do you mean?” her frown sags even more. Nayeon was always throwing something vague into the atmosphere, and Sana could almost figure out what she meant, but there was something _missing_ . She was still convinced she knew Nayeon somehow, but she always avoided the question when she asked her. A week into helping her out in the library only added onto her confusion, leading up to her hospitalization over something even _more_ confusing and obviously _also_ about Nayeon. So maybe she should have known better than to ask her what she meant just now, but she couldn’t help it.

 

“Have you been to the rink?” she changes the subject. Sana expected it, but still felt the sudden frustration rise as bile in her throat.

 

“The skating rink?” she feigns how disheartened she’s starting to feel, putting on a smile at the prospect of spending time with Nayeon. It’s bittersweet.

 

“Yeah. It’s pretty cheap to get in if you want to go,” it sounds like she’s trying to pitch it to her, which breaks the intensity of the moment, making Sana giggle.

 

“What?” she smiles. “I’m doing what you asked. Trying to take you somewhere _normal_ ,” she blushes a bit now, leaning on the counter again only to hide behind her hands.

 

“I know, I know. You’re just cute,” her heart suddenly hurts. Luckily Nayeon is still hiding in her hands and can’t see the grimace that flashes on her face.

 

“When do you want to go?” Sana asks, flicking her forearm to try and coax her out from behind her hands

 

“Tomorrow?” her eyes peak above her fingertips.

 

“That eager, are we?” she teases, leaning in a bit closer to Nayeon. Their faces are almost touching, despite the set of hands between what would be Sana’s lips and Nayeon’s. She definitely wants to kiss her. Whether that was because of this strange deja vu feeling or just because of how pretty and plush her lips were, she didn’t know.

 

“No, it’s just that I’m leaving in a week,” she informs her, and Sana feels the world crumble down on her. _Leaving?_

 

“Leaving for break or-”

 

“Forever.”

 

Nayeon sets her hands on the counter, staring at them. She looks too ashamed to look Sana in the eye.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she wants to cry, but there was really no reason for Nayeon to tell her something like that, she _was_ a stranger after all, so she doesn’t.

 

“Because I made the decision today.”

 

“When?”

 

“Just now.”

 

Sana purses her lips. “Just _now_? While talking to me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How are you going to-”

 

“Oh, my bad, how can I help you?” Nayeon interrupts, nodding to something behind Sana. She looks back to see a girl much shorter than her and looking nervous out of her mind.

 

“Yeah, I needed help finding a book-”

 

Sana doesn’t care to listen to the rest of the conversation, or to stay and talk out whatever just happened with Nayeon afterwards. She stomps out of the library with no intention of coming back. If she was going to keep so many secrets, what was the point?

  
  


___________

  
  


Nayeon waits for Sana at the rink anyway. She knows she screwed up, but she hopes she comes, hopes she surprises her with that blinding smile and unrelenting attitude.

 

But in reality she’s met with the solidarity of the ring. There’s people there of course. Skating, falling, laughing. A lot of couples are holding hands, and it makes Nayeon sick. It wasn’t fair to feel so empty in a room full of people.

 

Yet one by one they leave, and the loneliness doesn’t subside. Closing time gets closer and closer as she skates alone. And every time she falls she’s reminded there’s no one there to help her, but she ignores the sinking feeling, hugging the wall and hoping for the best.

 

The crowd widdles down to only herself at about ten minutes until closing time.

 

At that point, loneliness was just laughing in her face.

 

Anything would hurt less than the silence that engulfs the room. It shrouds the place in a certain kind of darkness, one that grabs at Nayeon’s gut with no remorse and doesn’t stop _twisting_ . _Twisting_ , _pulling_ , _clawing_.

 

She’s tired.

 

She skates to wall of the rink and leans on it, resting her forehead on the glass.

 

She’s breathing shallow, breath fogging up the glass as she tries to regain a semblance of control on her life. Maybe if she thinks hard enough she wouldn’t be trapped in this never ending curse.

 

But as closing time gets nearer, the only thing that changes is her breathing. And quite possibly, her will to keep doing this.

 

She groans in frustration, tip of her nose meeting the cool glass. Her fist meets the glass, shaking it in a way that shocks even Nayeon. She pushes off the glass a bit to make sure everything’s in place, _knowing_ it would be but being too anxious not to check. Then she sighs, cheek finding its way back to the glass and resting there. Her eyes close, taking in the chilling feeling before-

  


“I’m not too late, am I?” a familiar voice says behind the glass.

 

Nayeon’s eyes shoot open, hands wanting to grip for something, _anything_ to keep her grounded right now, but there’s nothing, and she slips and falls right on where she's most sore.

 

There’s laughter. The one that Nayeon wished for. A laughter Nayeon that lit up every dark corner of this lonely ice rink.

 

Only one person possesses that.

 

“Sana…” she groans, scratching the back of her neck.

 

“You know the rink closes in five minutes, right?” she asks teasingly, and Nayeon glares at her despite how happy she is to see her.

 

She gets up with some difficulty, gliding over to the clear pane of glass Sana stands behind.

 

“You know you stood me up, right?” she jokes back sadly, feeling tears sting her eyes.

 

“I know. I meant to.”

 

Nayeon nods. She knows she deserved it.

 

“But I figured I’d feel bad if you left and I didn’t come to the date you set up.”

 

Nayeon finally feels herself smile. Probably for the first time today.

 

“So what you’re saying is that you missed me?” she says, resting her face on the glass, purely out of habit now rather than comfortability.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I said that I’d feel bad, is all,” she smiles, resting her face opposite of Nayeon’s.

 

“I’ll take whatever I can get from you,” Nayeon mumbles, eyes travelling downward to the banners on the rink wall.

 

“I would say the same if you gave me anything at all,” she sighs.

 

“I’m sorry. I really am. Just know it’s much worse for me,” she laughs in pity of herself, hand on the glass balling into a fist.

 

“There you go. Being vague again.”

 

Nayeon considers saying it. Those three words. But they wouldn’t make sense, would they? Not here. Not now.

 

She settles on breathing some fog onto the glass and drawing a heart in it.

 

“That’s your big apology?” she says, no real malice in her tone.

 

“You said you’d take what you can get from me,” she reminds her.

 

And that keeps them both quiet for a long time.

 

It’s only broken when the one closing up the rink for tonight shouts at them to get out. Sana gets a bit defensive but Nayeon knows he’s just doing his job, probably. She gets off the rink quickly, throws off the skates, and joins Sana. Her pair of skates were in her hand. She hadn’t even put them on.

 

They walk in silence to the little waiting room, placing the shoes on the counter and saying their goodbyes to the cashier. And then they’re outside in the cold, cold air similar to the air between them.

 

“So, is this goodbye?” Nayeon turns to her. She hadn’t got a good look at her until now. The sleeplessness was getting to her. She can tell. She knows her well enough. Not that Sana knows that.

 

“You don’t walk your dates home?” she puts her hands in her coat pockets, mouth biting the zip of her coat and pulling the little bit of neck coverage above her mouth.

 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever taken on a date.” It’s much too true. Nayeon blinks hard at it. “Plus, I drove here,” she whips out her car keys, pressing the button until the little car sound goes off.

 

Sana moves closer to her. “Don’t make me take the bus. _Please_ ,” she pleads through a laugh.

 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, starting to walk to the car.

 

Sana waddles up next to her and links their arms.

 

Nayeon gulps.

 

( _It_ doesn't happen, thankfully).

 

They get into the car silently. Nayeon puts the key in the ignition and turns, but only just enough to get the electricity going to turn on the heat.

 

“I have to warm up the car,” she says.

 

“Clearly,” Sana nods at the frosted over window.

 

Nayeon rests her elbow on the armrest, not expecting Sana to do the same and intertwine their fingers. There’s the nervousness rising again, making Nayeon feel like she's about to vomit.

 

“Why do you get so nervous every time I touch you?” she sounds like she’s frowning, but Nayeon can’t see because she’s forcing herself to look forward and nowhere else.

 

She doesn’t answer. She was tired of lying. She would rather just hold back from telling the truth.

 

Thankfully the windows are defrosting quickly. She wouldn’t have to face the question in a few minutes.

 

“Listen, if you’re still going to play this ambiguous game, I’ll leave the car right now,” she threatens, hand on the handle.

 

“No,” she squeezes her hand, pulling it closer to her, “you need to get home.”

 

“I can walk.”

 

“But I don’t want you to,” her nails dig into her thigh. Campus was so far from here and who knows what was lurking in these streets so late at night. She could never live with herself if someone else hurt Sana. She already did enough.

 

“Then tell me what’s going on,” she looks right into Nayeon’s eyes, dim lighting making her eyes look more animalistic than she’d like. They could chew her up and swallow her whole. And honestly, part of her wishes they did.

 

“I can’t,” Nayeon sighs.

 

Sana looks at her angrily, then goes to unlock the door and pull, but Nayeon locks it again before she can leave.

 

“Can you hear me out before you go stomping off again, please?” Nayeon begs. She notices the car was warmed up enough (not as much as it should), all windows mostly clear and chairs not freezing - quite literally - their asses off.

 

She lets go of Sana’s hand and puts the car’s stick into drive. The car ride was so short, she would never be able to finish what she had to say. But at least Sana wouldn’t be able to jump out now.

 

“I’m listening,” her hands are in her lap now. Nayeon goes to hold one again, but Sana nudges it away with her arm. That hurts more than it should. (In her heart, of course. Not her arm.)

 

“Well,” her voice gives away that she was close to the breaking point, but she doesn’t care.

 

It’s not helping that she hadn’t thought about what she was going to say. She told herself not to lie, but the truth wouldn’t even make sense now. Her mind tosses around the options before ultimately settling on a lie.

 

She had to tell her _something_ , she tells the saintly part of her consciousness.

 

“I’m going home to my family,” _what family?_ she laughs internally at herself, “they asked if I could work and take my classes online instead.”

 

“That’s not what I asked you,” Sana says, looking out the window. “Although, that’s good to know. I thought you were leaving for another country or something.”

 

Quite honestly, she probably was.

 

“But I want to know what… we are…” she says carefully. Nayeon feels her hands starting to sweat.

 

“What do you mean?” she says nervously.

 

“Why do I feel like I know you? And that you know me? You’ve shown it on more than one occasion. I’ve noticed every time.”

 

_Dammit_.

 

“And why do I always feel like I’m being set on fire from the inside out every time we’re together? Why do I want to see you more and more with every passing day? Before you even told me you were leaving, it felt like I _knew_ whatever _this_ is was coming to an end. Like I knew the whole time, knew you and your motives before I even got your name. And I was so upset about it. Because I want more time with you. Why is that? _Why?_ ”

 

“That doesn’t sound like anything I can answer. Those are your feelings,” she grips the wheel hard.

 

“Caused by _you_ ,” she mumbles.

 

“I’m sorry,” Nayeon says, and she means it.

 

“Don’t be.”

 

“Okay,” is all she can manage. There’s something her mind is waiting for her to say, but she can’t let it out.

 

“It’s just frustrating, you know? You’re frustrating,” she lets her head hit the headrest of the chair.

 

“I’m sorry,” Nayeon repeats.

 

“I am too.”

 

“For what?” she turns onto an empty street, filled with nothing but sleeping houses.

 

“Liking you this much,” she laughs. It’s not the laugh full of happiness she was used to. “Maybe it’s best we avoid each other.”

 

“Okay,” another repeat. She didn’t have the energy to fight it.

 

It’s not like she hasn’t waited years for Sana before. What was another week?

 

(Terrible. It was terrible and made her sick but she would never admit it.)

 

Nayeon hadn't realized she was driving so fast in the silence. They’re almost to campus. Only one more turn and they’ll be at the dorms.

 

 

Nayeon considers driving off somewhere else, somewhere where she can tell her everything and anything. _The truth_. But that sounds like the start of some murder mystery case that Nayeon really doesn’t need on her hands right now.

 

She turns into the parking lot, trying to eye an available space. There’s plenty, but she’s stalling and pretending she can’t see them.

 

“There’s one there,” Sana points, “and there.”

 

She wants to say _I know. I just don’t want you to walk out of my life yet_ , but just nods in the wake of those words.

 

Eventually she circles inside the lot until she’s at the front again, parking in front of the dorm door for Sana’s convenience. It’s a silent parting, with Sana reluctantly grabbing the car handle and pushing slowly, as if it suddenly weighed a ton. Nayeon watches from the corner of her eye, relaxing in the car seat and waiting to be left alone in her thoughts. She opens the driver’s seat window an inch, enjoying the mix of cool air in the warm car.

 

There’s tapping at the window.

 

She opens her eyes and looks over. It’s Sana.

 

Was she changing her mind?

 

“I think my phone fell out of my pocket.”

 

_Oh_.

 

She reaches over and lets her hand search for it mindlessly.

 

“Are you not coming inside?” she asks quietly.

 

"No," Nayeon says as she finds a hold on her phone and hands it over. But Sana surprisingly stays at the window.

 

“I don’t usually sleep in my dorm,” she clears her throat. “Roommate doesn’t like me, I think.”

 

“I guess that explains how tired you look all the time,” it’s dark, but Nayeon thinks she sees her frown.

 

“Yeah,” she responds. She knows all the one word answers aren’t helping anything but at the same time she doesn’t want to make things worse. Sana clearly didn’t want anything to do with her anymore, and she wasn’t going to push it.

 

“So this is our big goodbye? You giving me dismissive answers?”

 

Nayeon opens the window a bit more, then clicks on the light.

 

“What do you want me to say, Sana? Am I supposed to be happy you never want to see me again?” she suddenly regrets turning on the light, knowing it’ll give away the tears that were about to clog up her eyes.

 

“I never said that,” the window is fully down now, and she rests her head on her hands at the opening.

 

Nayeon sighs, carefully reaching out to touch Sana’s hair. Her eyes shut as her fingers run along her scalp, and then she sighs, too.

 

“You’re so warm. Burning warm.”

 

Nayeon brings her hand to her cheek, thumb running along her cheekbone. Then Sana turns her head in her hand, kisses her palm, then pulls away. If Nayeon was thinking clearly, Sana looks reluctant to leave.

 

“Do we have to say goodbye?” Nayeon whispers.

 

“No. That’s too sad, isn’t it?” she whispers back, puffing out a little white cloud of air through her nose. “How about farewell?”

 

Nayeon smiles. “Lame.”

 

“But efficient,” she grins.

 

“Whatever you want,” she says defeatedly.

 

“Alright. Then… farewell,” she pauses after every word, as if she didn’t want to accept it. Nayeon didn’t either.

 

“Farewell,” the word is barely audible, but Sana nods.

 

Then she walks away, each reluctant step ripping Nayeon apart ever so slowly.

  
  


___________

  


She almost considers quitting the library job. But she deduces that it is the only thing that will keep her busy and away from doing anything irrational.

 

The empty hole Sana filled up only grows bigger. No amount of pretending she cares about her assignments or shelving books in alphabetical order can fix that.

 

In the middle of the week (two days before when she plans to leave), Nayeon realizes Sana could very well come to the library. Come and ruin her composure. Take a single block from her sanity and make it all crumble.

 

But she doesn’t. And she’s grateful.

 

Until she isn’t.

 

There’s a cart of books near the entrance for quick drop offs. It’s an incentive for busy college kids who most likely forget the little things, an idea Nayeon was happy to put in place for them, but it comes back to bite her when she spots one of the books.

 

It’s on the very top. Placed in a way that makes her eyes sore. It’s thrown diagonally on top of all the books, even though there was _clearly_ enough space to place it vertically like the rest of them, and-

 

The book. It’s familiar.

 

She can’t tell exactly why because there’s a sticky note on it, but she slightly recognizes the cover because of its light blue edging, white specs distributed carefully across it.

 

_Oh. Right._

 

Sana took that book out.

 

Nayeon curses under her breath, pushing the cart into the library.

 

She couldn't lie and say she isn't mad that there’s a sticky note on it. It’s almost like a slap in the face. She couldn’t take that off? 

 

Nayeon rips it off angrily, surprised when the sticky part stays on. It must have been on it for a long time.

 

She dismisses it, more frustrated than ever as it takes its time during the fall, swaying side to side and landing peacefully on the opposite side. There’s words on it.

 

She stares at it in awe, yet scared of what the words might be. It could just be wishful thinking, but what if the note was for her?

 

Nayeon crouches down to look at it, fearful that if she touches it, it will disintegrate and take away her final chance to see Sana in this timeline.

 

Trying to solidify the moment, she reads it out loud.

 

_meet me on the roof._

__\- sana_ _

 

 

Nayeon hits the ground running.

 

She isn’t even sure if she knows how to reach the roof, but that doesn’t stop her from running up every flight of stairs she finds. _If this was meant to be_ , she thinks, _I’ll find it eventually_.

 

It was like her mind wasn't attached to her body. She runs. Runs for _so_ long, each step taking a toll on what was left of her soul. 

 

When she finally finds her, only after a lot of running and panicking and some asking around, she finds the roof, greeted by a slight breeze and clear blue skies. Nayeon falls to her knees, surprised at how that tired her out.

 

“Hey, Nayeon,” she hears Sana say, not turning around.

 

Nayeon wants to question her, ask her why she changed her mind, but this all feels so unreal that she can’t put her thoughts into words, and just chokes out a noise she’s unsure of.

 

“Come here,” is all she says. And Nayeon obeys.

 

She struggles to get off the hard ground, but eventually finds her way to the blanket, sitting beside her, close enough to touch but not nearly enough. Nothing was ever enough, she realizes.

 

“I know I said we should avoid each other. But I couldn’t.”

 

Nayeon stares off at the city below, then to the skyline, then the setting sun and quickly back down again.

 

“I wanted to barge into the library everyday and just… talk to you… but I figured that would make goodbye more painful.”

 

“I missed you too,” Nayeon says simply. Sana laughs sadly.

 

“I missed you. I’m _going_ to miss you. I already do miss you. What’s the worst of the three?”

 

She thinks about it. “It’s worse that you missed me. Even worse that you already do. But we can change the future, no?”

 

“I don’t know, can we?” Sana asks, looking to her for an answer.

 

“Probably. But not any time soon,” her heart wrenches at her own words.

 

“I’ll take your word, then,” she rests her head on Nayeon’s shoulder, body warm against hers.

 

“Why are we here by the way?” she laughs, resting her head on Sana’s.

 

“I don’t know. Some higher power I guess.”

 

“No, I mean like-” she laughs a bit more genuinely now, “like _here_. on the roof.”

 

“Oh,” she blushes. “The clouds. Here is the closest you can get to them on campus.”

 

“Oh,” Nayeon smiles, reaching for her hand.

 

Then they sit in comfortable silence, taking in the view and homely feel of each other’s warmth.

 

“It’s funny how it feels like I can get closer to the clouds but never any closer to understanding you… or us...” Sana says after a while.

 

Nayeon kisses the back of her hand. And she whimpers, making Nayeon smile that sad knowing smile she knew Sana hated. “Do you really want to know?”

 

Sana panics. “I… yes… well, now, I uh- don’t know?”

 

“Kiss me. If you can... handle that… I’ll tell you everything,” the words hurt to say, because they make the end that much closer. It doesn’t help that Sana seems to get giddy over them. _She just doesn’t know_.

 

Soon she’d have to find her all over again. But the wait would hurt less than the want - or rather, the _need_ kiss Sana right now.

 

“I can handle it.” _You can’t,_ Nayeon wants to say.

 

Nayeon holds her chin in between her fingers, and Sana’s eyes flutter shut. She looks at her, wishing she had photographic memory to keep this moment forever. She’s so pretty and delicate _it hurts_.

 

“Wait,” Sana says. Nayeon’s stomach drops.

 

“What?”

 

“I know it’s sudden, and that we’ve only known each other for a little while, but,” she gulps, eyes fluttering open. “I think I love you Nayeon.”

 

Nayeon squeezes her own eyes shut, fighting the tears. One still escapes but she smiles for Sana, because those words will last eons for Nayeon.

 

“I love you. I always have, and I have for longer than you think. Through dozens upon dozens of lifetimes, I love you more and more every single time. And I always will, until the end of time.”

 

“I think somewhere… at the back of my brain… I know what you meant by all of that,” Sana gives her a nervous smile when her eyes open and shut again, wiping the tears streaming down her face.

 

“Now let’s stop thinking,” Nayeon sniffles, bringing their faces close.

 

“Will I ever see you again?” she says, lips close enough to brush against hers as she talks.

 

“You will. I promise.”

 

“Then this is goodbye?”

 

“No, that sounds too sad, remember?” she laughs. “Just another farewell. One of many.”

 

“Right,” Sana says. “I’ll look out for you in the meantime.”

 

Nayeon closes the gap between them because she would cry at the irony of the sentiment if she didn’t, and it’s like a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders. Sana tastes just like she remembers, like honey, and the air she breathes in is also the same, _the same Sana_ , a sweet candy like smell of perfume. They kiss slow and steady for awhile, until Nayeon feels Sana heat up underneath her, hands on her shoulders as her body pushes her against the ground. If Sana was in pain she didn’t care, she was too busy kissing her with a force that made Nayeon dizzy and desperate for more.

 

Nayeon wishes she weren’t so greedy. Maybe it didn’t have to end this way and so soon. She could pull off of her, let her live her life, one free of the destruction Nayeon was about to cause.

 

But she said she was leaving, and she was, but she wasn’t going to leave Sana behind.

 

As the kiss causes an inferno between them, Nayeon feels it begin. The way Sana seems to lose grip of what’s going on, lips panicking to taste Nayeon one last time. She knows she’s in pain, feeling a thousand volcanoes erupt inside of her, and she can’t do anything but cry out against her lips as it happens.

 

Then there’s nothing.

 

Nothing but the sound of her own crying, no lips against hers, just the feeling of tears falling down her face, the weight of a thousand suns in her hand as ash blows away in the wind.

 

A world without her is so much colder.

 

“I love you. I’m sorry.” she mumbles through her cries.

 

Those cries continue until every last piece of her is gone. When her voice can’t cry any longer and she’s left with everything but the one thing she wants.

**Author's Note:**

> this hurt to write. pls cry with me.


End file.
